Remembering 'JP': Jagannath Prasad Das Was Always Humane

Jagannath Prasad Das or 'JP', as he was known to all, was born in Puri on April 26, 1936, and died at the age of 90 in Bhubaneswar on June 5, 2026.

He left behind an impressive body of work; poetry including Pratham Purusha, Ahanika and Parikrama, plays, critical work, and books on art including an impressive volume on pattachitra. He wrote in Odia and translated his work into English, largely himself.

As an IAS officer he had posted as the Collector at Kalahandi. Twenty years later he was still haunted and inspired to write a poem, Kalahandi which resounded in the hearts of people.

‘Put away your maps

You do not need a helicopter to go there

Kalahandi is where starvation is.’

He writes that the ‘whole village is a cremation ground’ and that 

‘You will find Kalahandi everywhere

In the carnival of skeletons

The bazaars where children are auctioned

The sighs of young daughters 

Being sold to brothels’.

The words urge us to not look away as hunger still stalks our land in Odisha, Rajasthan and several parts of India. 

JP was quiet and had a humane attitude to life. His work was deeply rooted in Odisha but was, at the same time, universal. His play, Before the Sunset published by Arnold Heineman, deals with a protagonist Deepankar who at his birthday party accosts his wife Shiela, girlfriend Saroj and boss Sanjoy for depriving him his freedom and marring his life. The play reveals the absurdity of his existence and perhaps his own unwillingness to have the courage to be truly free. JP, the dramatist, was engaging the audience to think but in his own personal life he also left the IAS for his own freedom – to write.

His compassion for the poor and marginalised came forth in his writings but in his play, The Underdog, published by Vikas Publishing House, the elite and the intellectual come to deliver Ramu, the servant, but ultimately abandon him. Does the underdog have to rise to deliver himself and how skin deep is the commitment of the bureaucracy and the political class? JP had watched it at close quarters and was scathing in his indictment.

Pratham Purush, written in Odia and translated as ‘first person’ by Deba Prasad Patnaik, has the agony of the poet:

‘Suddenly I wake up

To someone’s scream.

What child was born?

Was it my past that came

To punish me?

I know not 

What is my transgression.’

He goes on,

‘Miles and miles 

Of dead bodies under slabs of stone

I am looking for them:

They are my frustrated yearnings,

Incomplete love,

And pointless aspirations.’

JP was mocking the condition of the modern man, trapped in ambition, angst and meaninglessness while unwilling to deeply engage with another’s starvation. Are we all living in a Kalahandi, he seemed to ask.

He wrote:

‘In the emptiness of false reports

The crocodile tears of political speeches

Inflated statistics overflowing on stacks

And stacks of computer sheets

Cheap sympathy spewed out at conferences

The meaningless promises 

Of government projects.’

The lack of commitment to changing the condition came through in his poetry and plays, and also the absurdity of the modern man’s angst. 

He remained very humane and always encouraged young writers. He would walk into a room and say to a younger poet, ‘I came to listen to you for only you know how to read poetry!' He would also be seen castigating the chair for cutting short a poet with, ‘But she has not finished yet!’ 

Gentle and extremely perceptive, spanning multiple universes, JP lived and wrote from Delhi where he had a large circle of friends and admirers. He finally moved to Bhubaneswar in the last two decades. He will be deeply missed by all poets and lovers of the fine spirit of man – a pratham purush.

Sagari Chhabra is a poet and filmmaker. She is the director of the Hamaara Itihaas Archives of Freedom Fighters.

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